Winter's Tent
by Capt. Corbin A. Noir
Summary: Felicity Worthington decides to take a surprise visit the Gypsy camp one last time. Set in the period between AGTB and RA. Oneshot.


**This is my first Felicity oneshot. I've done my absolute best to stay in sync with her character, so believe it or not, I was pretty nervous writing this! Feel free to tell me if you enjoyed it and if I did her character well! **

_Creak, croak, creak, scrape_…Her boots scrape the wooden floor as she paces around the room she shared with a friend. _Creak, croak, creak, scrape……_She runs her fingers along the dust-filled windows, and dust flies like brown snow. _Creak, croak, creak, scrape…sigh. _

Felicity Worthington was restless. She had been restless for days and she didn't know why. Could it be because she hadn't been to the realms in days? Gemma had refused every time she had asked, and Felicity wasn't always one for being patient. Day after day, class after class, she had waited for Gemma to get over that wall of self pity and consent to taking her and Ann to the realms. Trips to the cave have been less and less exciting. They would always remember to place fresh funeral flowers on the beautiful shrine in remembrance of Pippa, Felicity's dear friend, whom Gemma might have saved, but other than that it was only talk about future assignments in class and occasionally the latest teacher gossip. They had always avoided talking about the realms, and Felicity was getting impatient.

Of course she knew that none of them should keep secrets from one another, but she felt that there was something, a new burden, weighing Gemma down. She even dared to think that it could be that Indian boy Gemma had been informing her about. There was something there….

No. It couldn't be. It had to be something else. But what? Gemma's silence, in a way, felt much colder than the winter winds, bringing annoyance and curiosity. Was that why she was restless?

She missed Pippa dearly. She had sometimes wished that she had gone to the realms and had tried harder to save her, because she wanted Pippa back. And strangely enough, every time Ann or even Felicity herself would mention Pippa, she would always notice Gemma's face turning pale with alarm and a hint of fear. _What on earth is going on?_

Felicity continued to pace around the room. She had skipped dinner, giving Mrs. Nightwing the excuse that she had a headache. She had mentioned that she would feel better within the hour and needed a long rest with no disturbance. Gemma had given her a questioning look, but she had ignored it by making a show of complaining that the room was a little too bright. But Felicity new that Gemma was no fool. _Creak, croak, creak, scrape…_

After more pacing and pondering until her head was actually getting a little warm, she walked over to the window and pressed her head against the ice cold glass. Jack Frost had already made his journey along the window panes, leaving behind his unique trails of ice designs. Felicity's finger runs along the ice, following the curves and spikes, wondering what it would be like to leave such a beautiful pattern wherever she went. Until the finger stops. She shifts her gaze away from her finger and to the figure making his way through the woods. He was a well away from the school, but she could see him clearly.

He was not much older than a boy and behind him he was dragging a makeshift sled piled high with wood. A Gypsy.

_Of course._

Was _that_ why she was restless? Was it? She knew very well _when_ she had started feeling restless. After Pippa died. After Pippa died, Gemma shared less and less with her and Ann leaving Felicity upset and restless. She felt trapped and she needed something. Something dangerous.

She knew that very soon the Gypsies would be leaving for the winter. They never stayed for long. Warming up with newfound excitement, she grabbed her cape and made sure her boots were tightly laced. _Should I tell Gemma about this? _She thought. _No. If she decides to keep her burden to herself, I can very well keep this to myself._ With one look in the mirror, she decided to do one last thing. Unbuttoning her dress, she laced her corset a little tighter, causing her busts to push forward a little more. Redressing herself, she heads outside.

The girls had been given a free period to do as they wished. All the better. She had run into one of the maids in the corridor, who was a little surprised to see her. In minutes, she had gotten the maid to agree to make sure no one knew she was gone.

The winter winds whipped across her white-blonde hair as she made her way toward the Gypsy camp. The Gypsies were all busy with preparing the long journey to warmer climate as soon as the snow started falling from the sky. She practically faded into the background with the hood of her cape keeping her eyes invisible. All around her, there were men loading caravans with odd objects, women wrapping their babies in thick blankets and children running around the camp squealing in their shared language of Romany. All of them not noticing the girl in a dark blue cape snaking her way around them.

It was getting dark, and the Gypsies would be finishing their day's work very soon. She had to do this quickly, then. She walked faster past each colorful tent until she found the one she was looking for. Carefully, she stepped inside.

The tent hadn't changed much. It was getting emptier as things were put into caravans, but the precious objects still stayed. In the corner, a wooden chest was wide open. Inside it were a few articles of clothing; shirts of white, red, black…. On top of one of the black shirts lay an ear ring of solid gold. Picking it up and turning it over in her hands, she marveled at how heavy it was and where he had gotten it. No matter. She would make sure that he saw her for the last time before the Gypsies departed. She took one more look around the tent. He really didn't keep much inside his tent, she noticed. Some times she had wondered what it was like to have no real home, but instead to travel around the world like a nomad, living from place to place and enjoying forbidden freedom. How she wished that she could leave the walls of Spence without fear of being noticed instead of sneaking in and out, endangering her reputation.

Her thoughts were cut short as she heard footsteps coming closer to the tent. Then, she heard his low laugh echo through forest at probably a crude joke with a fellow Gypsy. Her heart started beating faster as he entered the tent. She suddenly wished that Gemma was here beside her to share this strong current of excitement.

It took him a while to notice that he wasn't alone. As soon as he had washed the sweat from his face, he turned around to see a ghostly figure in a dark blue cape with the hood over the head. At first, he was a bit startled at this unexpected visit, but his dagger was soon in his hand ready to strike. There was no need. The figure turned around and removed her hood.

Miss Worthington.

Ithal set his dagger on the cushions and stared at the girl that had always been coming in and out of his life. Neither of them said anything for a while. Then, Felicity spoke up. "You're surprised to see me," she said, pacing about the tent.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, hesitantly.

She didn't answer quickly. She merely walked the length of the tent, gliding her fingers over whatever was near, making Ithal grow more fidgety with uncertainty and something else.

Felicity could have felt nervous herself, pacing around the tent alone with a man. At Spence, there were always warnings about what the men at the Gypsy camp could do, and it made the girls nervous. But not Felicity. She wouldn't stop until the flame within died down. And Ithal knew that very well.

"Don't ask questions. Just listen." There was silence again as Felicity continued to circle the tent. "I haven't seen you since the night that we needed to see Mother Elena," she started. "And I know that you are leaving for the winter soon."

"We don't leave until the snow starts to fall," Ithal said calmly; his gold-flecked eyes following her every move, transfixed on her cape, curving around her swaying hips as she paced the tent.

Felicity's voice rose. "I already know that," she snapped. Then she reconsidered. "All I wanted to do was bid you goodbye."

Ithal tilted his head and gave her a wry look. He had a feeling that there would be more to this visit, and she wouldn't leave until her quest was complete. It had only begun. She walked closer towards him. "I needed to do something calm myself," she said. "So I decided on a little bit of fresh air. That's when I remembered you were leaving." She stepped closer. Smoothly, he stepped back, causing a look of confusion to appear on her face. He only smiled.

"That cannot be the only reason why you came here," he said.

Felicity knew he wasn't daft. Somehow, he had gotten to understand her more than she allowed, and the knowledge of her personal problems played across his eyes, menacing and taunting her. She had to climb higher. "I wouldn't expect you to know about what is on my mind," she snapped. "For you, it was all about what fantasies I could do to entertain you."

The last remark made him recoil a little. This time, he started pacing around her. "But it was you who left me on the other side of the wall," he said, referring to the pained memory of watching Felicity walk away from his rejected flower months before.

_Which is where you'll always belong,_ Felicity wanted to shout. She was mad at him for vexing her that way. But she was restless and couldn't control herself. Ithal was only walking around the tent, glowering at her, remembering the times she had caused him pain. Whatever was on her mind, it probably had very much to do with her friend with the ghostly green eyes. Yes, the one that had first found them behind the boathouse.

Felicity had probably guessed what he was thinking, for she moved closer to him once more. This time he didn't move back. "As I said before, all want to do is bid you goodbye before you leave for the winter." Ithal wanted to remind her again that they weren't leaving until the first break of snow, but he didn't get a chance to. Her lips were on his before he got a chance to speak a word.

Forgetting the world around him, he moved closer to her, forcing her mouth open as her tongue pushed inside his own, running in and around. Then, she pulled away, breathing hard, as was the very gesture that inflamed him more. "But it seems like you don't want my…warm farewell."

Nonsense. He closed the small gap between them, fumbling with her cape's ribbon, until it slipped off and fell to the floor. _"Răzvrătire,"_ he whispered, wrapping his arms around her waist. Their lips met again and they didn't part for a very long time.

Everything was forgotten; the restlessness, the burdens, the resentment, the pain and all those feelings that weighed them both down were washed away, going down and out of their minds and souls. It was just as Felicity had planned. Ithal however, had other plans. Slowly, he lowered her onto the cushions. Felicity hadn't expected that, but she didn't refuse. She was still restless.

The kissing got faster and faster and none of them had a will to stop. Was this how Gemma felt when she shared an embrace with Kartik, the Indian boy when she…

_Gemma!_ Felicity's eyes were wide open and she pushed Ithal away, gasping. How much time had passed? She had to get back to the school.

Grabbing her cape from the floor, she stood up. Ithal stayed down, looking at her with a look of curiosity and annoyance. "Where are you going?"

"I have to leave," Felicity responded, tying her cape back on. "People will be looking for me."

"No," he said. "They'll never find you here."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Felicity shouted. "This would probably be the first place the looked." Ithal's face was stone, but he kept silent, and watched her leave. She was gone once again, only to make yet another entrance in his life in the future. He muttered under his breath and reached for his dagger, caressing the blade with his fingers and marveling at the complexity of people called women. Why did he even bother?

Felicity rushed through the forest, breaking her way through the cold wind that took her breath away. Up ahead, she could see the candles flickering in the windows of the rooms. She spotted the window to her room, and her heart stopped cold. Someone was inside. Felicity ran at a full wind's rage, rushing in through the back door, and into the corridor, past the East Wing and onto her room. As soon as her hand was on the knob, she yanked it open. There, in the middle of the room stood Gemma Doyle.

"Where were you? I thought you had a headache," she said, her bright green eyes piercing into Felicity's.

Felicity didn't hesitate for a moment. "Where do you think I was?" she said breezily. "I was outside, getting some fresh air. Mrs. Nightwing suggested it, and it did ease the pain." Gemma's eyes never left Felicity's face, as Felicity placed herself down gracefully on her bed. She knew Gemma well enough to sense that she wanted to know more. Avoiding her eyes, Felicity lay down on the bed, and closed her own eyes.

"That makes sense then," Gemma said, rolling her eyes sarcastically. "That makes plenty of sense, considering the fact that you were outside for almost an hour. It must have been an awful headache. But you contained your emotions pretty well at dinnertime for such an enormous headache."

Felicity's eyes flew open in rage. Gemma's eyes didn't leave hers as her lips formed into a smug frown. "It's a wonder Mrs. Nightwing didn't send a search party out for you. I wonder why." The last three words struck Felicity like a bell. Immediately following the sound was a pang of guilt. Gemma knew where she had gone, and saved her from disaster. _Gemma knew…_

"Well, the situation was handled before you came in," Felicity spit out, but she felt anything but annoyed. She felt guilty.

"Just know that you were very lucky," Gemma said. With that, she stalked out of the room.

Felicity felt wretched. How could she ever think that Gemma wasn't the same? They all had burdens that they had to carry, no matter who knew about them or not. But if it were Gemma who had gone to the Gypsy camp, would Felicity have covered for her the way Gemma did? Or would she have looked for ways to get Gemma in trouble just because of things that remained unsaid?

Felicity could only sigh in relief at how close she was to ruining her reputation. And muse at the deepening mystery that was Gemma Doyle.

**Wonderful ending. At least I think it is. This piece turned out nicer than I thought. **

**But now, it is up to YOU to decide. (Yes, you, the reader). Be as honest as possible! Tell me what you think of this piece and review!**

**R****ăzvrătire: Romanian for "Rebel"**

**With all due respect and VERY tired,**

**Capt. C**


End file.
